


Gun For Hire

by akire_yta



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why has Hoshi got a gun trained on her Captain?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gun For Hire

**Author's Note:**

> Written a long time ago, but for some reason, never posted. borderline badfic, suggestion of multiple pairings. Addendum: Written long before S3, so any similarities to 'North Star' and 'Hatchery' are purely a case of GMTA Title from the Halfcocked song.

There was a voice in her head, screaming at her that this was wrong. She shook her head fiercely, knocking loose strands of jet black hair from its clasp.

"Hoshi...put down the phase pistol."

Archer's tone was placating, condescending. The voice got a little weaker. She hefted the weapon back up to his face, redistributing her balance more evenly across the soles of her feet. "No."

"Ensign!"

She bent forward slightly, forcing her way into Archer's personal space, and felt a tiny thrill of pleasure as he instinctively flinched backwards. "Silence."

As if it were a command to self, the voice in her mind ceased. All that was left was a grey, cool clarity. She was aware of how T'Pol had slid around to the front of her station, no doubt ready to pinch a nerve and send her into unconsciousness. Travis was also facing her, perched on  
the edge of his seat, poised to leap the second the opportunity presented itself.

The hiss of the turbolift doors caught everyone's attention for a moment. "Captain?"

The relief in Archer's eyes was palatable. "Malcolm. Its Hoshi, she's..."

The whine of phaser fire drowned out his words. T'Pol crumpled bonelessly to the ground. Travis was already spinning up onto his feet to meet the new threat. As the energy weapon struck, his own moment carried him forwards to slump, unconscious, over his own console.

Malcolm stepped forward, his own weapon trained unerringly on Archer. "She's doing what needs to be done, sir." Archer had only a moment to recognize the biting acid sarcasm in his tone before Hoshi pulled the trigger and his world went dark.

~#~

He woke to a grey world full of muted, worried voices. "He's coming around."

Swallowing with difficulty against the woolen taste in his mouth, Archer levered himself upright and swung his feet around off the bench to rest on the floor. His head was pounding. "What happened?"

T'Pol spoke from her position in the corner, looking for all the world like a thunderous vulcan statue. "It appears Mister Reed and Ms Sato have staged a mutiny, Captain."

He blinked, scrubbed his face, and sighed. "I was kinda hoping that bit was all a dream." He lifted his head and took a bleary look around his own brig. When he had first toured Enterprise, he hoped he would never be on the outside looking in, let alone on the inside looking out.

"The armoury team has sided with Mister Reed. We believe they may be using cargo bay two as a secondary holding facility."

He looked around the cramped room, taking a mental headcount. "Where's Trip?"

For a moment, he could have sworn a look of sorrow crossed her otherwise impassive face. "We do not know. He was not detained with us."

Travis spoke, but did not look up from his fierce contemplation of the decking between his boots. "We jumped from impulse to warp about half an hour ago, sir."

Archer froze as the implications of that sank in. "They'd need Trip's help to do that."

No one spoke.

~#~

Malcolm stepped onto the bridge, paused, and smiled. "Nice touch, Hoshi."

She waved idly and pushed herself up off the railings where she had been slouching. "You like? I thought it might be good. If anyone calls, they won't be able to tell the difference." She walked over to the Captain's chair and fed Porthos another piece of cheese, smiling as the pup turned warm, affectionate eyes on his benefactor.

"At least he's quieter." Gesturing for his partner in crime to follow, Malcolm crossed the back of the bridge and let himself into the Ready Room.

Inside, he settled himself into the desk chair and folded his hands across his stomach. Hoshi recognized the body language. Draping herself over the hard, narrow couch, she propped her head on one hand. "Problem?"

Malcolm tilted his head to one side, but did not look at her. "Perhaps. Mister Tucker is still feeling....conflicted."

Hoshi pushed herself up into a sitting position and shrugged. "He was Archer's best friend. It must hurt to realize that your best friend is being a fool and is probably going to get you killed. He'll come around."

Malcolm turned the chair to face his co-conspirator. "Its what he'll get up to in the meantime that has me worried. Trip is an inventive man." A sly smile touched his lips. "He is also very loyal. Normally, I would consider that a plus, but now, it may prove to be a difficulty when it comes to doing what needs to be done."

Hoshi rose smoothly to her feet to perch herself on the desk next to Malcolm. "What do you suggest we do?"

The smile rose another notch. "Keep his hands busy and his mind occupied so he doesn't have time to fret." He grinned evilly. "You make sure Captain Porthos gets his cheese and keeps us out of trouble. I'll deal with our recalcitrant engineer."

~#~

Trip sighed, and listened to the near-silence of engineering. His baby was still purring over, maintaining a steady warp two, but the large bay seemed even bigger without the steady stream of voices, the clunk of bootsteps, the clattering of tools. All the familiar noises of a busy and crowded engine room that he didn't realize were familiar until  
they were gone.

It felt kinda like he was flying a ghost ship.

The noise of the airlock doors opening behind him drew his attention. Malcolm slid into his domain on near soundless feet. Trip had never noticed before. There had always too much noise for him to realize that Malcolm could be silent even on the rattling metal decking grids.

He turned back to his engine. "Malcolm."

A slight clink was the only noise that betrayed him as he leapt lightly up onto the small catwalk. "Trip. How are you doing?"

Not looking up, he reached over and tapped a command on the console. "Everything's fine. Warp reaction is stable, no problems."

A warm, dry hand slid over his own, making him jump. "I wasn't talking about the engines, Trip."

He looked up at Malcolm's face, an involuntary reflex. His eyes were almost grey today, full of kindness and compassion. The hand that had wrapped around his own tightened in a comforting squeeze. Trip swallowed convulsively. "I'll be okay."

Malcolm drew their joined hands over between them. Some part of Trip's brain woke long enough to remark on the fact that they were holding hands in a public place, then Malcolm was speaking again.

"...to know, Trip, that I understand. It was a hard decision for all of us, but for you..." he trailed off. "I just want you to know that I we're all here for you."

Trip wrapped his other hand around Malcolm's, and the younger man followed suit. For several moments, they just stood there on the catwalk, both hands intertwined. Trip sighed internally. What they were doing was right, but that didn't mean it was going to be easy. It was hard to admit, even to yourself, that your best friend had broken under  
the pressure of commanding the pride of Starfleet. Trip thanked his stars he had friends like Malcolm and Hoshi, who would see him through. "Thankyou, Malcolm. For everything."

Malcolm smiled slowly. "No Trip," he murmured as he stepped right in. "Thank you." One hand lifted from their folded clasp to gently, almost nervously, cup the curve of Trip's cheek. Then he was gone, the doors swinging gently shut proof of his escape.

Touching his face with quiet awe, he turned back to his engines. This day was just full of surprises. He made a mental note to get Malcolm alone once this whole horrible mess was over, and see what other surprises he had in store. But for now, he needed to focus. They were  
down nearly the entire engineering team, and they were going to need to maintain a steady warp to get to...to...Trip blinked and shook his head, clearing the errant thought away.

~#~

Malcolm twisted slightly as he acknowledged Trip's arrival onto the bridge. At helm, Tanner nodded his own greeting before turning back to his duty. Moving past science, something in the Captain's chair caught his attention. "Porthos?"

"He was fretting," Hoshi offered. "And starved. He hadn't been fed in days. I think he realizes something's wrong with his master. I brought him up here to keep him company." She gave Trip a sorrowful little smile. "I did promise to take care of his dog, remember?"

Trip bit his lip, worry for his friend blossoming yet again. Malcolm laid a comforting arm on his shoulder. "Its okay, Trip. Everything's going to be fine once this is over."

Nodding, Trip half-turned to face Hoshi at her station again. He was acutely aware that Malcolm had not removed his hand, and the warmth was seeping in through his uniform.

Hoshi either didn't notice or didn't care. "However, we do have a problem now. We need command access to the computer core."

Trip nodded. "Yes. The Captain, the Sub-Commander and I have the command codes. But you need at least two to get into central functions, authorize reprogramming, and so on." He turned to look at Malcolm. "My code alone won't do you any good."

Malcolm nodded at him. "Given the Captain's...condition, do you think we should try T'Pol first?"

Trip licked his lips nervously. "Let me try to get through to Jon."

Malcolm was already shaking his head. "Trip, no, you shouldn't have..."

"He's my friend," Trip countered hotly. "Maybe I can make him  
understand that what we're doing is for him and for Enterprise." He turned to fully face Malcolm. "This ship is his life, Mal. I don't think he would ever do anything to deliberately put her in harms way, sick or well."

Malcolm nodded slowly. "All right. I'll have him moved, so you two can talk. But," he held up his hand sharply, forestalling Trip's reply. "I'm coming with you. I don't want you alone, Trip. His mind...he may not recognize you." The hand returned, a warm weight squeezing his shoulder. "I don't want to see either of you hurt, Trip."

Nodding sadly at the truth in Malcolm's words, Trip acquiesced. "I'll be in engineering when you're ready." Shoulders slumped, he walked back across the bridge and into the turbolift.

Malcolm watched him go, then moved to stand right next to Hoshi. "This is harder on him than I think even he realizes."

Hoshi raised an eyebrow. "He could use a friend. Or maybe two."

Malcolm noted the look in her eyes and nodded. "I agree." He paused, then perceptibly straightened himself out. "Have my security team move Archer to sickbay. We'll talk to him there. And keep working on the hacks. I don't think either Archer or T'Pol will be inclined to help us."

Not even waiting for Hoshi's nod of understanding, he strode across the bridge to the turbolift.

~#~

"Trip, please, whatever they've said, it's a lie. You know that."

Trip looked close to tears, but Malcolm held back. Even if they didn't get the codes, this conversation was proving to Trip, once and for all, that his old friend was now a broken man. "Cap't...Jon, listen to yourself. We're trying to get help for you and the others, but we need you to give us your codes. Please."

Jon leant forward as far as the restraints on the biobed would allow. "Trip. Let me go."

He shook his head, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "I can't do that. You might hurt yourself again."

Malcolm stepped forward and touched Trip's elbow. "Come on," he murmured. "That's enough for one day." Keeping up his soothing litany to drown out Archer's enraged shouts of denial, he escorted Trip from sickbay. Outside, he nodded to the guards, two of his trusted crewmen from security, then kept walking. Archer would be returned to the holding cell, no doubt to stew in his own juices.

He had more immediate concerns, like the man before him. "Trip, are you okay?"

Trip nodded shakily. "I'm fine. I...I just better get back to  
engineering - someone needs to keep an eye..." Not even bothering to try and finish the sentence, Trip all but bolted up the corridor back to his domain. Malcolm let him go.

"Sato to Reed."

Malcolm walked up to the nearest comm unit. "Reed here."

The unholy glee was evident in her voice, even through the tinny speakers. "I've cracked it."

Malcolm's grin was toothy and feral. "On my way."

~#~

The guards stood with weapons drawn against possible attack from their prisoners as they lowered the forcefield to return Archer to the cell. T'Pol waited until the guards retreated again before speaking. "Captain?"

Archer walked slowly across to the bed, moving like a man beaten. "I just had a little talk with Trip and Malcolm," he said. "From what I can gather, I am meant to be psychotic, deranged, dangerous and just plain nuts." He lowered himself onto the bench. "And they have had to take over the ship for our own good."

"That's crazy," Travis exclaimed.

"Its what they believe. No matter what I said or did, it just seemed to reinforce Trip's opinion that I am a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic." T'Pol raised an eyebrow at the human expression, but stayed silent.

From his position on the floor in the corner, Phlox lifted his head. "It is interesting," he mused. "That these 'symptoms' manifested themselves after Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Sato led the away mission to that moon, hmm?"

Archer perked up. "Are you suggesting that something happened to them on the away mission that may account for their strange behaviour?"

"Considering that every crewman we know to be taking part in this action was also part of the away team, the doctor's surmise is logical."

Archer looked at his first officer. "But the reports said it was uninhabited."

"The reports were written by Lieutenant Reed."

"Or it may not even be the work of sentient beings," Phlox added from his position in the corner. "Perhaps it is due to exposure to some chemical or biota that affects perception or reasoning in humans." He smiled broadly. "There is so little data on human reactions to xenospheres, it could be almost anything."

Archer looked determined. "I'd much sooner buy alien interference than I'd buy three of my most trusted officers suddenly deciding to mutiny."

Phlox shrugged. "If we could get access to the scans taken during decontamination, we may be able to identify the culprit." He tilted his head sternly. "If it is biological in nature, of course."

T'Pol spoke up from her corner. "We need access to sickbay."

Archer snorted explosively as he rubbed his wrists. "The last time I was there, they made good use of the restraints."

Phlox clambered to his feet. "Perhaps they won't consider restraints necessary if the patient is ill." He looked at T'Pol with an appraising eye. "And since you were unable to mediate with all this going on, you are not feeling well at all, are you Sub-Commander."

T'Pol's voice was as dry as her desert homeworld. "Quite."

~#~

Reed sat in the ready room, going over the navigational data they had unlocked from the main computer. He knew it was out here somewhere. If only they could find it.

A chime at the door broke his concentration. "Enter."

Hoshi glided into the room and twined herself across Malcolm's back, taking in the star maps scrolling across the screen. "Anything?"

He shook his head fiercely. "Nothing yet." He rubbed his brow, his frustration building. "I know it's out here."

Hoshi batted his hands away and began gently but firmly massaging his head. "Why wasn't it in the main computer?"

Malcolm shrugged. "A new, top-secret listening post? A station we had to build right under the nose of the Vulcans, the Klingons, and anyone else who might like to grind their bootheels on humanity? Maybe it was considered too sensitive to record with T'Pol running loose on board."  
He groaned and pushed into Hoshi's fingers. "That feels heavenly."

She shrugged and moved around to perch on the table again. "We've been going for nearly thirty hours straight. I had the headache from hell until I went and got something from Phlox's pharmacy for it, and I've only been doing language problems." She smiled and pulled a hypo out of  
her pocket. "You've been holding this ship together." Gesturing for Malcolm to bare his neck, she pressed the hypo to his skin. The feeling of relief was almost instantaneous.

"You're an angel, Hoshi. I don't know how we'd have done without you."

She smiled seductively. "Dreadfully." They shared a laugh as the door chimed.

"Enter."

Trip stepped cautiously through the doorway, his arms full of a heavily loaded tray.

Hoshi smiled brightly as she stepped up to help Trip with his burden. "Ahh, dinner."

Trip put the tray down on the table. "Hoshi reminded me that we haven't eaten since..." the smile he was wearing began to slide.

"Who else will take care of you two?" She pulled the covered plates off the tray and began handing them around. "Eat. And tell me about this station you both remember hearing about. Maybe there's some clue in the gossip as to where it is."

~#~

"Easy, crewman, easy." The unconscious weight of T'Pol balanced between them, Phlox waited for the other guard to open the doors to his domain. "Quickly, onto the bed." He felt the dead weight of T'Pol sag down between them. "Help us," he snapped at Crewman Foster, the other guard.

Obeying instinctively, the crewman stepped forward to help take the weight. Even though he was expecting it, Phlox was still stunned by the speed of T'Pol's attack. One moment she was seemingly unconscious, the next the two crewmen were truly unconscious on the floor.

Moving in, Phlox grabbed the nearest crewman by the armpits and, with T'Pol's help, hoisted him onto the biobed. Flicking on the scanner array, he began to prepare the crewman for a full physical examination.

Behind him, he heard T'Pol finish snapping restraints on the other guard before moving over to his computer console. Between them, they had to find a logical explanation for the behaviour of the away team.

Phlox didn't want to consider what would happen if they didn't find one.

Brushing that thought aside, he focussed on the preliminary  
neurological scans. At first glance, as it had during their return examination, there appeared to be no anomolies. Phlox intensified the scan, going down past viral to the submolecular level.

"Sub-Commander," he murmured. "Could you please take a look at this?" She moved over to view the screens. "Is that...?"

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. "Nano-technology. Highly sophisticated nano-bots."

Phlox pulled back. "They are accumulating in the areas of the human brain that deal with reasoning, perception and higher functioning." Moving over to his workbench, he called up the record of the scan.

T'Pol followed him over. "This level of technology suggests a sentient species."

Phlox bent to look into his quantum microscope. "The question then becomes, Sub-Commander, what purpose do they serve?"

T'Pol's non-expression hardened. "I believe it is time to retake the ship and find out, Doctor." Pausing only to collect the weapons they had liberated from their guards, she strode from the room. Phlox activated the internal lock to his domain before turning back to his search for a cure.

~#~

Trip had taken the helm, relieving the exhausted Tanner. Hoshi, Malcolm and Porthos were the only other souls on the bridge as they approached the brown dwarf star.

"Is this it?"

Malcolm shrugged. "It is the only brown dwarf in a hundred and twenty light years." A beep at his console caught his attention. "I'm detecting a planetary body...with three moons -" he looked up and smiled. "And a small satellite base."

Hoshi and Trip shared broad smiles. Soon it would be over; they would hand over Enterprise and Archer and someone else could finally take responsibility for the mess this mission had become. Trip's hands flew across the navigational console. "Setting course. One quarter impulse."

Their moment of peace was shattered by all three main doors onto the bridge opening at once. Both Hoshi and Malcolm drew their phase pistols, but were hit by stunning blasts before they could squeeze off a single shot. Trip froze at the console, unarmed and trapped, as the deranged face of his oldest friend looked down on him.

Behind him, T'Pol moved on silent feet to press a nerve pinch into the base of his neck. As he slumped into unconsciousness, he heard Jon Archer's voice.

"Its okay, Trip. It's gonna be okay."

~#~

Hoshi heard her own voice groaning as if from far away. Slowly, feeling like she was coming back from the dead, she cracked one eyelid. Wincing against the bright light, the babble of voices coalesced into something she could understand.

"Captain? She's waking up."

Her eyes were adjusting to the light, so she cautiously opened the other eye. The face of Jon Archer was looking down on her, a concerned smile on his face. "Welcome back, Ensign."

"Wha-" Her throat was dry, her voice hoarse. She tried again. "What happened?"

On her other side, the doctor appeared. "What do you remember, Ensign?"

She shook her head, trying to clear the fuzziness from her mind. "We were on the surface, then we came back, and..." A fragment of memory revealed itself to her. "Oh my..." She looked at her Captain. "I didn't...did I shoot you, sir?"

Archer laughed. "Good thing you remembered the difference between stun and kill, Ensign." His expression softened as he took in the look of abject mortification on her face. "It's okay, Hoshi, it wasn't you."

Phlox replied to her look of utter confusion. "You were infected with a highly developed nano-virus. It affected reason, perception, the higher cortical functions. To your mind, you were acting perfectly rationally. The nano-bots redirected neural pathways so you would create, in your  
own minds, a justification for your actions."

Archer took over the explanation. "They wanted Enterprise. So they infected the away team. You all thought the rest of the command staff had been compromised, and so, in your minds, you were re-taking the ship. In actual fact, you were acting out the commands of the nanotechnology to deliver the ship to them."

Hoshi blanched, but one thought came instantly to the forefront of her mind. "Malcolm is going to be inconsolable."

Archer laughed, obviously not holding a grudge at the officer who shot him. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, you need to get some sleep."

Obeying for the first time in two days, she slipped back into unconsciousness.

~#~

Trip, Hoshi and Malcolm made a depressed circle in the corner of a nearly empty messhall.

Hoshi was methodically tearing apart a muffin, Malcolm was staring into a cold cup of tea as if it contained the secrets of the universe, and Trip was just staring off out the window into space.

Hoshi spoke first. "I can't believe I shot the Captain."

"I shot T'Pol and Travis."

"I tied Jon to a biobed."

"I broke into his computer."

"We took over the ship guys," Trip interjected sharply. "That kinda outweighs everything else."

Silence reined for a few minutes. "What really annoys me," Malcolm said slowly. "Is how easy it was."

Trip managed to crack a grin. "Who would have thought out little comms officer had it in her?"

Hoshi pelted him with muffin crumbs. "Hey!"

Malcolm couldn't resist. "It is always the quiet ones."

Hoshi shot him a nasty look. "I seem to remember someone else firing first."

Malcolm looked back at his cold cup, abashed.

Trip sighed. "Only eight of us."

"Nine," Hoshi reminded him. "We corrupted Porthos, remember?"

Trip grinned at the memory of Jon bawling out his dog, and nodded. "Nine against seventy five, and we still held the ship for over two days."

Malcolm leant forward. "My point exactly. True, we were a well-informed adversary, but if Foster and Zabel hadn't dropped the ball with Phlox and T'Pol in sickbay, Enterprise would be in enemy hands by now and we'd all probably be very, very dead."

That sobered them all up and they dropped back into silence again, watching the stars fly past the window.

~~##~~


End file.
